What Dies Inside Us
by S.Walden
Summary: Yamato and Mimi just lost their child in an accident. They are trying to start over when they realize something hasn't completely left them alone. Mimato
1. Chapter 1: Moving On

What Dies Inside Us

Summary: Yamato and Mimi just lost their child in an accident. They are trying to start over when they realize _something_ hasn't completely left them alone. Mimato

A/N: This is a bit of a dedication to my old fics I would write in 2001-2003, mainly the use of Mimato and a certain surprise character. I hope you all enjoy. This fic will be a tad angsty, romantic, suspensful and fluffy... Also, it's slightly AU. As in no Digital World, but more or less the same goings-on as they got older.

Warnings/Pairings: Nothing too extreme in this fic, thank goodness. Um, pairings include Mimato (obviously), Taiora (for once!), Jyoukeru (cuz, why not?), and Kenyako.

* * *

><p>1<p>

[Moving On]

"Mimi, don't lift that," Yamato started, scooping up the box from her arms and hurrying it through the door. "That's why we have real men around, remember?"

"Like you hardly constitute that," she joked. "It's not like I'm pregnant _yet_."

"Taichi, Koushiro, Jyou, and Takeru will lift the rest okay? Why don't you go unpack the kitchen stuff with Sora and Hikari?"

"...so I can listen to them complain about Taichi? Or, even better, their _kids_?" Mimi was glaring, the word definetly dripping with envy. Yamato did his best not to bundle his fists and put a hole in their new apartment wall like he had the last place... and, despite the box clearly reading 'Living Room', took it to the bedroom just to avoid that tension. From the doorway he watched his lover- they had never been married –go take his advice and join the girls in the kitchen. Yamato heard laughing. Not Mimi's. He couldn't remember the last time in the past four months that he had heard himself laugh, either. He set down the box on the bed and stumbled around other boxes on the ground to reach an oddly placed light switch. An ugly yellow-orange glow eminated from above and made the blonde squint as he gained his bearings again.

Then his dark blue eyes landed on the box on Mimi's side of their queen sized bed. The name 'Russel' was squiggled onto it and crossed out and rewritten and crossed out.

* * *

><p>Mimi was sitting on the floor of the empty room. They had turned the electricity off and so the cold was already seeping in, making the entire place feel, well... dead. Mimi placed a pink hoodie in the box and then took the permenant marker from her side and scribbled out the child's name.<p>

Yamato watched breathlessly from the doorway. She hadn't even noticed him. He had hated to go to work that morning. God, she hated it when he left normally, but now... Yamato feared the worst each day when he came home, even insisting that their friends check up on her, which had led to a serious amount of fighting. In fact, Mimi made some snide remark to him about being the one who hadn't tried to kill himself once before and chickened out last minute. It was a low, personal blow and he let it slide. As much pain as he was feeling for their deceased son, Mimi was feeling it twenty times over. Yamato hadn't held the being inside him for six months and then had to watch helplessly as the baby struggled on for another two months after... Foolishly, his training kept him gone weeks at a time and his eyes began to tear up in the realization he was slowly becoming his father. Hence, no marriage so when this entire thing did fall apart like it was, he wouldn't have to deal with that horrible word. He could further take comfort in the fact that Russel wouldn't be subjected to such pain.

After a few more scribblings out and rewritings, Mimi just broke down crying, throwing her body over the cardboard box and clenching her undone nails into the sides of the cube. She felt her oak colored hair fall over her slender frame, hiding her sobbing.

Yamato's heart broke a little further as her wails echoed in the empty, cold room. He glanced around, looking at the walls that almost seemed faded, too. He recalled Russel complaining about having to paint the thing a few weeks before it happened... and the next day his arms were sore. Yamato told him he couldn't be spoiled forever- even Mimi learned her lesson eventually. The day after, Russel had thanked him.

Yamato let a squeak escape his throat as he rushed over to Mimi. She shivered at his touch- the jacket around his body was cold and wet from the rain. He kneeled next to her and held her tight, letting his tears disappear into the strands of her hair. "I'm sorry," he breathed.

She clutched his wrist tight and sobbed some more.

* * *

><p>"Oi, Yamato."<p>

The blonde grumbled, being snapped from his thoughts so rudely by no other noise making monster than Taichi. "Yes?" the blonde asked with sarcasm.

"Lunch is almost ready," he said, noticing where his best friend had been looking. He frowned slightly- but nothing that would indicate true, heartfelt regret. No, just pity. Yamato hated that. Still, he knew Taichi didn't mean anything by it. It was just who he was. "You _will_ eat something today, won't you?"

"Yeah, if you'll stop pestering me," Yamato smiled and gave a chuckle as he brushed past his best friend.

Taichi shivered. Sure, four months had come and gone, but the pain in his friend had only time to fester and it worried him. "Oi," he called. "We should all talk about that mission you got assigned to."

Yamato nearly stopped halfway down the hall. "Yeah, Mars. Can you believe it? Three years in space." He shook his head and continued to the kitchen. He was relieved at least to see Mimi smiling, but he knew they were both just trying to act tough in front of everyone. Inside, Yamato wanted more than anything to just shut down and die, but that was what was expected of him and he just couldn't fall victim to something so weak. Mimi, on the other hand, was very good at showing her emotions when she was younger, but learned later on that there was a time and place and it wasn't in a room with your friends who were clearly there trying to support you. Or in Yamato's case, pity you.

"I hope cucumber is okay," Sora said happily, setting the plate down. "There wasn't much else."

"It's fine. Thank you," Yamato whispered, taking a seat on the couch. Cucumber sandwiches and sushi were laid out in front of him. He didn't feel like eating, but Taichi's stare was threatening. Yamato took at least one piece and ate it and was glad, it was good. However, it only stirred a rumbling in his stomach. "So, what are your plans for your big tenth anniversary?" He gave a hinting smile Taichi's direction.

The slightly tanned skin of the boy's cheeks flushed pink, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"None of that," Sora started, "Last thing I need is you two boys bickering." A pause as she gathered her own plate, "Yamato, thank you for asking. We're actually going to a resort on Tuesday. It's not just for what you think, either. There's plenty of things for couples to do."

"You guys should go," Taichi said without thinking.

Mimi and Hikari were joining them and Mimi and Yamato exchanged glances. Mimi sighed with frustration, "We can't. Yamato's leaving in a week."

"Oh, is it that soon?" Taichi questioned.

"Yeah. It is," Yamato confirmed, eating a sandwich just so he wouldn't have to talk.

"Must be exciting for all that hard work to pay off," Koushiro noted. He and Jyou had caught the tail end of the conversation as they brought up yet another box of books. They had never taken Yamato to be much of a reader, and, thinking it to be a box of Mimi's dime-store romance novels, tore open the box in an attempt to throw them down the elevator shaft in anger. Then they realized it was just notebook upon notebook of Yamato's old songs, drawings, and even a dabble of writing. Not ones to snoop, they promptly closed it and headed upstairs.

Sora noticed the quiet fall over the room. She had every intention of this not being one of those awkward get togethers where someone said something to piss Yamato off that would result in a huge fist fight or him getting wasted or Mimi running off crying. Like the old days, she thought. It was funny then, but they were adults now and things had to be handled maturely and delicately.

"Where's Takeru?" Yamato asked suddenly, still ever-watchful over his younger brother to this day.

"Oh, he said he was locking up the car. Should be up any moment," Jyou explained, revealing he no longer had Yamato's keys.

* * *

><p>Takeru was satisfied after the third click and fifth honk that the large van was locked and then began to hop up the stairs and into the building. In the lobby he passed by a young man with smooth, purple hair and a trenchcoat. He wouldn't notice such a thing normally, except that the shine of a golden police badge had caught the light of the ceiling and blinded him as he walked past.<p>

"Hey," the cop said. His voice was surprsingly sweet.

Takeru, always eager to be social and friendly, "Hello there."

"Moving in?" the man asked, motioning to the van outside.

"Not me. My brother and his girlfriend," Takeru replied.

"Ah. This is a nice place. My name is Ichijouji, Ken. If you see my around, give me a holler if you need anything."

"Thank you," Takeru said, bowing.

Ken just smiled and turned on his heels, leaving into the pouring rain with no umbrella.

"He's gonna catch a cold like that," Takeru chuckled.

He wondered briefly if something was amiss and continued towards the elevator.

He had been happy to see Yamato with Mimi and even happier to have a nephew. Takeru and Jyou hadn't found time for children of their own, so on the occasion they got to take care of Russel, the younger blonde remembered those times and kept them close to his heart. The boy had looked more like his mother, with the attitude of his father. Not the best combination. He had an arrogance he couldn't shake, but it didn't mean it got in the way of his kindness and loyalty to others. Taichi and Sora's children and Russel had been good playmates, even.

Takeru held the metal wall of the elevator in his palm, steadying himself. He couldn't break down, not when his brother was suffering more than him... but Russel had truly been like his own child in a way and like Yamato and Jyou, Takeru had learned to hold things in and surely, they would break.

He joined the others who were sitting in silence and eating. "Aw, come on, what's with the long faces? Isn't this place great?"

"It really is," Sora agreed, giving Takeru a nod. She could always depend on him to brighten the mood. Usually she would turn to Taichi for such optimism but even he was feeling the pain his best friend was feeling. One of his greatest fears had been losing his own children, especially early on. Now that it was becoming a somewhat reality to him, Sora could forgive him for being down. "I hear there's even a cop living here, so it must be super safe."

"Yeah, that last place you guys were at was going to Hell," Taichi admitted with a smile.

"Don't remind me," Yamato said, bundling a fist. He had wanted SO badly to outright murder their last landlords, especially with how they had treated Mimi. Luckily she had handled things towards the end, knowing Yamato's threats of arson to be not-so-farfetched.

"I saw him on the way in," Takeru said, sitting down.

"Who?" Jyou questioned, giving his husband a glance.

"The detective living here. He seems nice. He even said to let him know if you need anything," Takeru continued. "His name was Ichijouji, I think. Kind of hard to forget, right?"

"Ichijouji?" Yamato wondered. He had heard the name before.

"Mmm? Someone you know?" Taichi questoined.

Yamato, deciding the name was merely as unique as his younger brother made it out to be, nodded the thought away, "Nah."

"I'm sorry," Sora said suddenly, looking up at the antique clock on the mantel of the fireplace. "I have to go..." she trailed off as if saying more, but hesitating.

"Oh, Tsukuyomi and Jaciru..." Taichi whispered. "We're late. They're gonna be mad as hornets."

Yamato smiled. He didn't notice as Mimi clenched the napkin in her hands. The couple thanked them and in turn, Yamato thanked them for the food, then they left. It seemed like everyone left quickly after, exhausted from a hard day of moving, save Jyou and Takeru, who had more time to spare. Their jobs were rather free-flowing and with no children to distract them, they both agreed in silence that their time was better spent consoling those they knew how to console.

Yamato had gone off to the balcony for a smoke and Takeru followed. That left Jyou and Mimi finishing their tea at the tiny coffee table, still scattered with crumbs, saucers, and paper towels. "How are you doing, Mimi?" Jyou asked finally. "I'm sure you've been asked that a lot lately."

"Yes," she said, her voice strained. "I'm so glad everyone came by. Everyone's trying so hard. I wish I could be stronger, like Yamato. Then again..."

"He's not being strong, I assure you," Jyou replied worriedly. The two were good friends and he knew right off that the man was troubled. He could sense it in the way he subtly carried himself and when Takeru did have an off day, the mannerisms were rather similar. "...then again, what?"

"He's leaving, so it doesn't matter, does it?" Mimi sniffled, tears welling around her eyes.

"He's not leaving you, Mimi," Jyou pressed.

"He's going to be gone for three years, Jyou. Three!" Mimi barked, ripping the napkin in half. "I _need_ him with me right now."

"...you know he isn't going to open up about this," Jyou reminded, "And he's been looking forward to this for almost a decade now. You saw this coming when you got back together, you knew about this a year ago-"

"That was when Russel was still alive!" she wailed.

"...I know," Jyou breathed.

"He's so selfish..." Mimi sobbed, not even bothering to hide her drooling make up with her hands. "In a week... he'll be gone. He acts like he cares, but I know he doesn't."

"That's not true at all. Don't think like that."

"...I know. I sound like a little idiot, don't I?" she whispered. "All I want is... for him to just stop running away from me. Anytime things get hard, all he does is destroy himself to make himself feel better. He worries about me to the point I wonder if he thinks about anything else. See, how he's out there smoking? You know he quit when Russel was conceived..."

"He always promised he would. I will have to give him a stern lecture later. Took him a few years for his lungs to recover last time," Jyou sighed, realizing the doctor in him was coming out.

Mimi then giggled and it was a beautiful sound. "Thank you, Jyou. You always know what to say to me."

"I doubt Takeru is having an easy time," Jyou replied, chuckling a little. "Glad I'm not his brother."

Mimi snorted a little as she laughed and placed her hand on Jyou's, giving it a squeeze.

* * *

><p>"Brother~, I thought you quit," Takeru whined, waving off the smoke from entering his eyes.<p>

"I saved this as a reminder," Yamato said, holding up the freshly opened pack. Still, they tasted stale to him. They were seven years old now. "Guess I don't need it anymore."

"You're going to sit out here and brood, aren't you?"

"So what if I am?" the blonde remarked, leaving over the rail. He glanced down at the people walking below and the city ahead of him. God, he missed the country, but Mimi insisted. No matter, he would have all the wide open space he could conquer in a week.

"Mimi needs you-" "I'm there for her." Takeru paused as his brother cut him off, then continued what he was going to say, "No, Mimi needs you to _open up to her_. God, you look like an apathetic asshole, Yamato."

"Maybe that's how I feel," he retorted, giving a long breath of smoke.

Takeru's face scrunched up with frustration, "How can you not feel anything? He was your son!"

Yamato white-knuckled the rail, resisting the urge to push Takeru back through the glass sliding door. "I don't know!" he exclaimed. He heard Mimi arguing with Jyou as well... things certainly weren't going well for anyone. "I don't fucking feel anything. I know I'm supposed to be sad, miserable even, but there's nothing here. Nothing!"

"Y-Yamato," Takeru started, his face frowning. "I didn't know... I thought you were just putting up that front you always do."

"Well, I'm _not_," the blonde scoffed. "Now, can you leave me alone? I don't want to talk about this. Go make sure Mimi is okay."

"I'm not leaving you out here alone," Takeru whispered, still unable to look his brother in the eyes. Not that Yamato was looking at him until that very comment.

"Is that supposed to mean something, _little brother_?"

Takeru could take a hint. He opened the screen door and then slid it closed with a slam, startling Yamato, making him drop the cigarette onto whatever idiot was walking three stories down. He sighed and buried his face in his hands.

"Asshole," Takeru remarked, storming back around the couch, back around Jyou, who looked on worriedly. Their laughter had been haulted by the brother's cursing and Mimi sighed.

"I guess it didn't go well."

"Did he say anything at all?" Jyou pressed, just as worried as Takeru was about their friend.

"Just confirming to me that he doesn't feel a damn thing for anyone, not even himself," Takeru remarked, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water.

Jyou patted Mimi on the hand and rushed to his husband, having heard the cracking in the boy's voice. "...are _you_ alright?"

"I don't know," Takeru replied. "I just don't understand. How can he not feel anything at all? Russel doesn't deserve that..."

Jyou held Takeru in his arms. "Takeru, give him time."

"It's been four months-"

"Some people grieve differently than others... his numbness is his sorrow, even if you don't understand that."

"...he's going off the deep end again," Takeru sniffled. "Just like when Mom died."

Jyou had noticed Takeru's gaze, never leaving the balcony. Jyou gave a sigh. "Mimi..."

The once-mother smiled, "Yes, Jyou, we would be happy if you stayed here tonight. Yamato needs a little company, after all." She gave a wicked smile that told him Mimi would manage just fine. If there was one thing Mimi loved more than her son, it was Yamato. And aggravating Yamato. She wasn't going to let her husband slip away so easily... and she still held the hope that he would decide to stay in the end, because if her efforts failed... then... she knew he would leave her either way.


	2. Chapter 2: Living

What Dies Inside Us

Summary: Yamato and Mimi just lost their child in an accident. They are trying to start over when they realize _something_ hasn't completely left them alone. Mimato

A/N: I know I said Jyou and Takeru were staying the night in the last chapter. I decided they would just stay for dinner, otherwise this chapter just got weird.

Warnings/Pairings: Nothing too extreme in this fic, thank goodness. Um, pairings include Mimato, Taiora, Jyoukeru, and Kenyako.

* * *

><p>2<p>

[Living]

"See?" Mimi chuckled, "He's trying to impress you, you know."

"Impress me?" Takeru snorted.

"He feels bad for yelling at you," Jyou chuckled to himself.

The TV blared some lame sitcom behind them as they all sat gathered around the now-clean coffee table. Yamato was swaying in his apron in the kitchen like a complete dork and Mimi loved it. It was _her_ apron, anyway. Still, he wasn't one to ruin anything but a pair of jeans, saying they were "earth's napkins". She realized he wasn't kidding when india ink and some unrecognizable Mexican food wouldn't come up after three washes.

"I know he can cook. How is that going to impress me?" Takeru continued.

"He's being nice, so you be nice, too," Jyou said, giving Takeru a rap on the back of the head.

"...again, I'm so glad you two are here," Mimi pressed, her long eyelashes covering the glimmer in her auburn orbs as she stared into the warm hot chocolate cupped in her hands. "I think Yamato doesn't mind after all."

Yamato knew they didn't think he could hear them and as he stared at his reflection in the boiling water, he smiled. _This is like any night you two would come by and get Russel. He never wanted to leave us, so we all ate dinner together..._

"Yamato, how is dinner going?" Mimi questioned. He twitched, his version of being startled, as his girlfriend wrapped her arms around his waist and took in the warmth from not only the stove, but him as well. "It smells good."

"Well, its easier without a nagging wife around my waist," he replied. Despite the fact they hadn't been married, he still called her that. It was cute. Mimi knew it meant he thought highly of her, even if he could never get past cold feet to make the jump. She twisted the rose gold ring on her finger and then hugged him tighter.

"Please," she whispered, "I just want to know you're okay."

"Mimi," he sighed, shrugging her off, "I promise I'm fine. I'm sorry everyone wants me to be a God damn nervous wreck, but if I can just live as normally as possible, it helps me. See?"

She nodded, wiping tears from her eyes, "Yamato, I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispered and she kissed him. It had felt like an eternity since that had happened. She winced at the sour taste of ashes; even if it made her all tingly inside, the sudden flood of it was jarring after six long years. Yamato wrapped her hands back around her and turned away from the stove, kissing her deeply, seeking any form of comfort to make him feel better... feel anything. Mimi finally pried herself away with a smile.

"Oh, yeah, you're doing just fine, Ishida," she snorted, giving him a playful tap on the back. She watched him blush deeply and grumble as he went back to cooking. She gave him one more playful tease of her hand across his shoulder before exiting the kitchen and returning back to Takeru and Jyou, who had immersed themselves in the ghost show on the TV. Jyou was huddled like a child in Takeru's arms, the reversal of what one would have expected years ago. Jyou had made a promise to Yamato back in high school- to always protect the boy with his life if he even got to date him and not have anything come of it. Yamato actually didn't care too much, since he didn't expect anything either. On the outside, the two did, indeed, have little in common. However, only Taichi had the courage to pry into their sex life (to Sora's annoyance).

"What are you two _watching_?" Mimi squealed, taking a seat in the rocking chair. She pulled an afghan over her cold body. The heat wasn't doing much for this horrible freeze they were having.

"I _hate_ ghosts," Jyou trembled, burying his face, glasses and all, into Takeru's chest. The entire thing was so amusingly awkward from Jyou's height and curled form to Takeru wincing as Jyou's glasses pressed into his skin.

"Oh, come on, not with that," Takeru retorted.

"What?" Mimi asked, anxious to hear the gossip.

Yamato scoffed from the kitchen. He had heard this story, once.

"Jyou thinks he's actually seen ghosts before," Takeru giggled.

"Sora was there, you _ask_ her. You ask!" Jyou exclaimed, pulling Takeru closer to him.

"What?" Mimi asked, tilting her head in disbelief.

"Sora and Jyou were in middle school when they got the short end of the stick when it came to a dare. Stay in the haunted church on the other side of town for an entire night," Takeru recited with a huge grin on his face.

"I _saw_ things," Jyou wheezed. Takeru patted him on the back and rolled his eyes, the continued. Well, he would had if Yamato hadn't walked to the edge of the kitchen and stolen his thunder.

"Jyou and Sora had almost made it through the entire night when, supposedly, a group of ghosts attacked them."

"Well, the church had been an orphanage at the end of its days and lots of kids died in a fire," Takeru explained, his voice growing quieter with each word as they slipped from his lips. Mimi gave him a reassuring wave that it was okay.

Yamato twisted his lips and went back to the kitchen.

"They say ghosts stay behind because people won't let them go," Takeru continued.

"No one believes in ghosts or aliens until they see them for themselves," Jyou warned.

"Oh, like a bunch of grown men pissing themselves is going to make me believe in spirits," Yamato snorted distantly.

"This show actually isn't that bad," Mimi said, watching thoughtfully.

* * *

><p>"Thank you again for staying for dinner," Mimi said. Jyou and Takeru stood as a reflection of her and Yamato in the doorway.<p>

"I had fun," Yamato admitted, with a smile. For a second he felt like people were going to accept how he felt and he could actually move on with his life. "Take care of him. He's the best doctor I know."

Takeru nodded with a huge smile. Still babylike after all these years. Yamato's smile grew faint as he recalled Russel's smile, almost identical to Takeru's. He turned away quickly, leaving Mimi to shut the door as Takeru tried to ease his husband's fears of things going bump in the night.

Mimi sighed, "I'm glad you're finally admitting that you miss him. That's more than I could say for you two months ago. It was like he had never existed."

"Why won't you say his name, then? Russel."

"...I don't mean to," Mimi said.

Yamato could see he had let his tempered defensiveness get the best of him and walked over, joining his hands with hers. He pressed his forehead to hers, too, blonde spiky bangs sticking to the soft, milky skin. He once complained that she always smelled like make up, but now that scent brought back fond memories of their son, being stupid and using make up as a drawing medium on the freshly painted walls. He couldn't help but smile as a tear fell down his face. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, you know," Mimi said for the first time in months. She had tried hopelessly drilling that into him at first, but to no avail. Maybe now would be better. And it was.

"...yeah, but I still-" the blonde started, then stopped when a soft hand reached his cheek. "Mimi."

"I'm not forgetting Russel. I'm just... accepting that he's gone."

"What? Gonna give me that religious crap that God has some better plan for him in Heaven?"

"I'm not your mother," Mimi snorted, clearly offended. Their embrace broke. "I'm just saying that Russel's death wasn't your fault and that he's in a better place."

Yamato chuckled, "Oh, a better place. A better place?!"

Mimi stepped back at the blonde's outburst. She knew if she pressed, he would be throwing things any minute and it took the earth to stop moving to calm him. "Please."

"The only place good for him is here with his parents. Not buried six feet under in a fucking casket," Yamato muttered, then turned away from Mimi. She stepped cautiously towards him.

"You know, there's only one way to cool you down. Why not get a nice shower? You had a long day, anyway."

"You get a mother fucking bath," Yamato remarked, breaking from her gentle grasp and storming off into the kitchen.

"Oh, that's going to help!" Mimi called as he grabbed a bottle of wine and went to sit on the couch, in the living room, in the dark. She huffed and decided she _would_ get a bath. She deserved it. She thought being a mother had been the most difficult thing in the world, but then, at one time, she thought deciding which shoes to wear was a daunting task, too. Now, she realized, that being a parent who lost her child and had no way to console her husband was the worst. Possible. Thing.

She went into the bedroom, noting the box of Russel's belongings. At the age of six, they mostly consisted of some shirts Mimi intended to sew into a quilt, some of his favorite toys (although, his favorite had been buried with him), and all the little things he had made for them from macaroni pictures to paintings that, when looked at through any eyes but a mother's eyes, were just scribbles. But she knew that they meant he was happy. Loved. She turned her gaze away from the box and back to the drawer to pull out a silky pink night gown.

Then, she went to the bathroom and started the water. The faucet came to life with a loud roar that filled the apartment. In a way, the constant noise was a beautiful escape from all the silence. She was even thankful for the argument because it meant he was only getting better. With a sigh, she tossed her hand in. The water was way too cold. In fact, the apartment had been so damn cold she reminded herself that she needed to call the repairman in the morning.

_Another day passed_, she thought. _Will he leave me? Will he surrender himself to that void instead of the loving arms of the person who loves him more than anything on this earth?_

She stood and went to find her fluffy pink robe. At the old house, she chuckled at the thought of having three and how Yamato's hands always managed to lose them once they were tossed away from her beautiful, naked form. Now, they were bured in a box somewhere, like that memory was in the back of her mind. As the tub filled she looked for at least one of them.

Then, there came a sudden hiss from the bathroom, like steam. She jumped and realized it was just the downstairs' neighbor's shower turning on. _Come on, Mimi. You're going to let some ghost story get to you?_

She had never been fond either way of the paranormal, although she might have experienced seeing a lady in white, once. However, her apartment growing up had been old and had a high probability of little white, transparent people running around. She never felt scared or in danger, though, and so she couldn't shake why she was now.

Yamato downed the second glass in the last five minutes. God. He hated wine. But there was nothing else to drink. He just wanted to let himself be handed over to oblivion, just for one night, so he could get his thoughts together and shake the weariness from his aching body. Only a small end table lamp remained on and he stared into the empty fireplace, as if expecting it to burst up with fire. But only dark and cold.

"Damn heater," he remarked, going over to change it. _Damn thing already says 80. What the Hell? I'm not made of money. _He turned it down despite having gone over to raise the temperature, then found comfort back in the couch. He hadn't slept on one in a long time and after having been blessed with a luxurious mattress for once in his life and with the lack of his childhood night terrors, he was surprised that the furniture was as comfortable as it was.

Yamato stared at the glass on the table. The motions from him setting the glass down still left the liquid unsettled. He pulled the afghan Mimi had earlier around his body. She always smelled like the middle of a mall. After all these years though that had become second nature to him. He loved the smell and now when it came to Christmas shopping each year, he thought the mall smelled like her.

* * *

><p>"We're going to find Mom a present <em>here<em>?" Russel questioned. "Doesn't she have a million of these?"

Yamato sighed. Already he had an attitude problem and a huge lack of understanding of women. He held Russel close to him as best he could with the boy fighting to walk on his own, while looking around the jewelry shop. "This is for your mother's birthday in September. I can get a better deal now and just pay it off for a few months... then on our anniversary, I can finally ask her."

Russel wrinkled his nose. "Ask her what? Just ask her now."

"It doesn't work like that you little," Yamato started, stopping himself with a smile. He was starting to miss the terrible twos at this point. The independent sixes were killing him. "Look, this is going to be the most important piece of all that shit ton of jewerly she owns, so help your Dad out will you?"

Russel smiled, "Ha, you love Mom."

"That's not an insult, Russ," Yamato sighed. "Rose gold is perfect. It's expensive and there's pink in it."

"I like this one."

Yamato changed his glance to the one Russel had pointed out. Maybe the kid did know a thing or two about women after all. Of course, Yamato began to sweat at the price tag and shield his eyes from the blinding light of a good two dozen diamonds and the silver band straining to hold their weight. "Eheh, I'm not that rich yet."

"When will you be?"

"Never if I kill my son," Yamato remarked. "What was Mimi's birthstone again? Would she like that?"

* * *

><p>Mimi took off the ring and set it down on the tiny sink. Nearby, a candle flame gave off light that made the long curves and gemstones dance. She had finally managed to find one of Yamato's robes. Well, correction, his only robe. While putting it on to make sure it was fit for human skin she had stuffed her toe through a hole and nearly tripped. Nonetheless, it was toasty and safe and she hung it on the back of the bathroom door, which was cracked, letting in some of the light from the livingroom that had flowed to the bedroom and back to her.<p>

"A bath is all I need to make my worries just wash, wash away," Mimi said, singing a little at the end. She missed her short lived pop-idol career. At least it had only been short lived because of Russel, which she couldn't regret in a thousand years. So much good had come of his mere existence. Yamato had given up his rock career, too, to persue his love of space. She thought it was sweet and worthwhile. She didn't like how he had adapted to the fame and Mimi wasn't too pleased with herself either. One of the reasons they had taken solace in each other in the first place.

She took a second to test the water again. Satisfied, she turned off the raging waterfall and went back to an insane silence and her thoughts...

She wouldn't say Russel had been a mistake. Just a very pleasant surprise. Yamato had never turned her or him away and seemed more thrilled to be a father than upset his life was about to do a 180. "Russel, if you could see how your father is behaving..." Mimi muttered, slipping her exposed body into the warm water. "You would have some snide remark, right? Like, 'Dad, stop acting like a girl'." Mimi chuckled, letting the water soak into her hair and up the nape of her neck. The warmth eased her tired body and she thought of how hard it was just to keep living. So much more difficult than death. Russel had it easy. She felt a little guilty for thinking that, but knowing her son would agree, that made her smile instead.

Then, a crash from the bedroom. She shot up in the water. "Yamato?" she called, the sound of the splash still echoeing in the tiny washroom drowning out her voice. _He's probably already drunk and stumbling back to bed. That's all. _

* * *

><p>Yamato turned behind him. Had he heard something? He wasn't sure. His mind was swimming a little. "Mimi?" No answer. He had heard the water shut off and knew she had to be in the tub by now. Damn thing took forever to fill, so he contemplated how long he had been sitting alone and how long she usually bathed. But he gave up halfway through and started his third glass.<p>

He never finished it and instead buried himself into the couch, quite literally. His bangs poked up from the cushion, blocking most of his vision. Not that he was seeing all that straight between tipsiness and exhaustion.

_"Dad..."_

His drooping eyes shot open a moment. _Russel...? God, now I know I need sleep. _

_"Dad, play with me?"_

He shut his eyes, willing the voice away. It was strange, like as if hearing it from a dream. Not in the same room, but growing louder. He rolled over so his nose was buried in the back cushions, then wrapped himself up in the knitted comforter. "Last time I drink after a long day," he muttered, warmth finally invading his frozen nose.

_"You're not going to play then?"_

"I don't have time," he responded, half awake. He could feel his son's prescence behind him, pulling at his coat. "I have to get some sleep or I can't be a good pilot, okay?"

_"I see how it is. I guess I'll play alone."_

"No, Russel, don't take it like that-" Yamato started, rolling over. For a second he could have sworn he was somewhere else. He caught his breath hanging in the air, visibly. He felt the softness of the cushions in his fingers as he sat up, balancing himself. "Russ?" he whispered, the blanket falling down his shoulders. His breath still formed clouds in front of him every few seconds and he wondered just how damn cold it was now. He glanced outside, fully expecting to see snow or something. Nothing had changed since he fell asleep. Was he still dreaming now? He closed his eyes, "I've fucking lost it. I've fucking lost it!" Yamato laughed to himself and began to lay back down, when a particular breath of air flew in front of his open eyes. He watched as a face, quite possibly his dead son's face, appeared in front of him and he screamed, falling from the couch. He hit his head on the coffee table with a loud curse.

He was no longer freezing and he could no longer see his breath in front of his face. "Russ..." he breathed, brushing back his short bangs. Then, Yamato heard a strange sound from the bathroom. He turned, the nightmare having sobered him somewhat, and rushed quickly as he recognized screaming.

* * *

><p>Mimi extended a milky thigh into the air, watching the bubbles slide down her legs. "I guess I can share some of your father's egotism, Russel," she chuckled. "You always said I was beautiful."<p>

_"You are."_

Mimi glanced around and gave an uneasy laugh. "Very funny, Yamato. Bastard." She went back to pooling the water over her arms. Warm in her hands, it faded to below freezing as it hit her skin and she cried out, thrashing in the water slightly.

_"Momma, will you play with me?"_

Mimi whimpered to herself. She was easy to give over to strange sounds and eerie feelings. "Yamato!" she barked as tears began to force her throat tight.

_"You've forgotten me, too?"_

"No, I couldn't," Mimi replied, unable to fathom why she would even respond to something as ludicrous as an intangible voice. "I'm the only one who remembers you, Russel."

Suddenly the water grew incredibly warm. Steam began to form and Mimi cried out as her skin started turning a deep shade of red. She barely managed to stand and escape from the tub as the water began to visibly boil, making a fog in which a young boy's form could be seen. She screamed again as Yamato tore open the door. She looked to him and he looked to her. Back to silence. And cold. Mimi began to cry on the tile, unable to find words to express what had happened.

"Mimi, what's the matter?" Yamato managed, fumbling to find his grip as he held her.

"Get off me. I don't like you're fucking jokes, Ishida," she remarked, pulling away from him. She scrambled, still naked, until she could reach the sink and pull herself up. She was crying the hardest she had the entire day and made her way back to the bed, curling up and wishing away the burns.

"Mimi, I didn't..." he started, looking back at the tub. Half full. In Mimi's case, half gone. He always doted on her about filling it too high, because then the tile would rot. "Mimi... we're both losing it."


	3. Chapter 3: Calling

What Dies Inside Us

Summary: Yamato and Mimi just lost their child in an accident. They are trying to start over when they realize _something_ hasn't completely left them alone. Mimato

A/N: I was debating making this a complete AU or not. Now it is, if anyone was wondering. Also, I promise you'll all be learning about Russel's death soon. I touched on it lightly here. I wanted to apologize for how this chapter was a long time coming as I'm swamped at my job for the holidays, but I hope to have part 4 up by Christmas. Thanks to everyone for reading and please review!

Warnings/Pairings: A little angst. Pairings include Mimato, Taiora, Jyoukeru, and Kenyako.

* * *

><p>3<p>

[Calling]

The next morning, Mimi awoke fully expecting the pains from last night to be completely visible in the morning sun. She groggily tossed back the blankets that had been piled on her- and Yamato, she noticed, passed out next to her –and looked at her legs. No lobster color. No damaged skin. Nothing. She brushed her fingertips over her thigh. No pain. She wanted to cry again, but she had used up her well the night before. "I fell asleep in the tub, that's all. Yamato must have tucked me in before he decided to stop giving a damn. How cute."

In a better mood, Mimi trudged to the kitchen. She never liked cooking too much, but had gotten to be a wonder chef after raising a kid for six years, feeding an equally as talented husband, and doing her own little experiments on the side. _Thank you mother_, she thought, still loving strawberries and fried rice to this day. Even Yamato had loved it.

As Mimi prepared a breakfast of pancakes, she hummed to herself. She couldn't deny she was feeling uneasy, but at least the steady sound of her boyfriend's snoring made her feel not so alone. She gathered the eggs and milk from the fridge with a shiver and then realized that she needed to call the repairman. With a sigh she set everything down and grabbed the phone.

* * *

><p>Yamato opened his eyes as best he could. They were still very heavy and he didn't remember much from the night before, except hearing Mimi scream and watching her walk back to bed. He shook the horrible thought from his mind and reached over for the clock. <em>Nine in the morning? Fuck. I'm going back to sleep.<em> Then he realized he didn't have the day off. He was an hour late for work and it would take him at least a half hour to get ready and another to get to work. He was dead meat! As he went to piss, he could hear Mimi on the other side of the wall, talking on the phone.

"Yes, it's unusually cold in my apartment. The thermostat isn't reading right. No, it isn't all the time, but we just moved in a few days ago- Oh, thank you. Yes, my husband will be here." Yamato stood in his bedroom doorway with his arms crossed. Mimi glanced over him in nothing but boxers and a grin on his face. "What?" she asked.

"I'll be here?" he chimed, "I have work."

"No you don't," she insisted.

Yamato's blue eyes flared up, "I have to be there, Mimi-"

She wandered over to him, putting a finger to his lips, "N-n-n-no," she teased, "You're staying home and getting some rest today."

"But-"

"I have a short errand to run with Takeru later. You can come if you like, but I really want that stupid thing fixed and he won't be able to get in if no one's here. We misplaced the spare key, apparently..."

"...alright," the blonde grumbled, "Hey, Mii."

"Yes?" she questioned, heading towards the kitchen. Yamato followed.

"Do you remember last night?" he asked and heard her scoff. She hated it when he was in a bad mood and drank, but if he was in a good mood and drank, she would pour the poison down him. "I just remember feeling weird."

"You were wasted and I was exhausted," she said.

"What does that mean?" Yamato questioned, joining her in the kitchen. "Oh, pancakes."

"I thought I heard something, but it was probably just you knocking something over," she explained, "Anyway, get out of here so I can cook. Don't eat all the batter like that, you'll get sick. Get your germy fingers-" Mimi started shoving a very chuckly Yamato out of the kitchen. He stuck his tongue out at her and went back to the room. When he was a kid he would have killed for a free day to do nothing. At his wife's request that was like a pleading demand for him to fuck her at this point.

"Mimi~" he called.

"I know what's on your mind and no. I'm cooking, we're going to eat, and then I'm going to go meet your brother for Thanksgiving shopping. Or do you not want my turkey this year?"

Yamato frowned. No sex. But there would be turkey in a few days. Decisions. "Aw, come on," he laughed, "Not even a nibble?"

"_No_. I just got clean last night. Knowing you I'll be in the shower for a month and if the water gets like it did last night I'm going to have to ask the maintenance to fix that, too..." she trailed off, realizing what she had said.

Yamato's friskiness faded to concern, "What was wrong with the pipes?"

"N-Nothing. I probably just used all the cold water."

"It's the _hot_ water you use, Mii," Yamato said, taking a step back into the kitchen. However, she stopped him by holding out the whisk fencing style.

"A step closer, Yammy, and I'll just have to eat these pancakes myself."

"You'll get fat," he teased. "I guess I'll go watch TV or something since I'm being sentenced to this cell."

"You _could_ unpack some of these boxes. I mean, I know we moved them out of the way for the guests, but I'm not having them standing around for an entire year like last time we moved."

_Last time..._ Yamato recalled. They had stopped touring and upon news of Russel's arrival, moved back to Odaiba to be closer to everyone. His mother was in failing health, too, not that he cared all that much, but Takeru had insisted... so things just came together then. So, as the smell of heat and syrup filled the tiny apartment and Yamato dreaded having to deal with a damn repairman when he could be enjoying himself, he pulled over a box and began going through it, thinking that he may as well start being annoyed now rather than later.

"Kitchen shit," he muttered.

"What?" Mimi snorted.

"That's what Taichi wrote on the fucking box," Yamato said, cracking his neck. Mimi chuckled, subsiding his annoyance for a moment more, "What?"

"I was just thinking... I'd probably be lecturing you for Russel finding it, only to realize it was Taichi playing some dumb game with you."

_"Dad, play with me?"_

Yamato shook the memory from his body like a dog making itself dry. "Jesus," he whispered, "I thought I was out of it when that happened..."

Mimi couldn't hear him, but noted his sudden quiet. She hadn't meant to upset him, but talking about her son made her feel so much better. She flipped the last batch of pancakes, thankful to get out of the apartment soon. She was beginning to suspect they got a good deal on the place as the light above the stove began to flicker. Another thing to add to the list.

"Living room... Living room 2... so creative with the names... I don't feel like unpacking this stuff," Yamato whined. He stared over at the looming oak bookshelf that he and Taichi had nearly killed one another over bringing up. Soon half of these boxes would be on those shelves. But that meant having to unearth his many astronomy and flight books, his manga, and... well, the scrapbook, too. _Just because it has 'book' in the name Yamato doesn't mean you should have packed it with all your other books. If you had just let Mimi pack it with Russel's stuff._..

"Ready," Mimi called from the table.

Yamato gladly joined her for breakfast. Despite the two thinking they were both in good moods, the meal was quiet. They were kidding themselves because they both knew they were just existing, rolling with the tides. It wasn't that they didn't want to move past it... it was like something was stopping them.

"Russel loved pancakes," Mimi said. "I hope he has all he can eat now."

Yamato remained silent. Thinking of Russel was bad enough. Talking about him, too, like this, only reminded him of the guilt he felt. Mimi wasn't stupid, she could see this, but she wanted her boyfriend to tell himself out loud that it wasn't.

"Yamato, don't do that," she sighed, watching him poke around with his fork. Mimi had learned quickly through chats with Hiroaki that he always did that when he wanted to avoid talking, which was almost always. "Russel wouldn't want you to be like this."

"You think I don't know that...?" Yamato whispered.

"He would want you to stop blaming yourself," Mimi pressed. "There's nothing we could do."

"What do you want us to do, Mimi? Start over? Have another kid and pretend nothing happened?"

"Did I say that?" she remarked, "I didn't think you would want to, anyway..."

"Mimi..." Yamato whispered, "Maybe, you know, someday..."

"I told you before, I don't want to forget him, but you just shove his existence under the rug like you did with your mother."

"That's different!" he barked.

"I'm just saying!" she said, throwing her head down into the comfort of her arms, resting against the dining table.

"I'm not trying to be difficult," Yamato explained. "I'm just not a masochist. I don't want to talk about it."

"_Him_, Yamato."

"No, _it_," the blonde breathed. "I don't want to talk about his death. I want to talk about everything else like his smart ass mouth, how he inherited my good looks, how he was really good at singing like us... he sang all the time to himself..." Slowly Yamato's body grew more tense with each word. "I just don't want to have the inevitable talk about how or why he died, because it was my fault. I can't change it."

"It was an accident, Yamato," Mimi reminded. "No one else blames you. I don't. Your friends don't. Russel doesn't."

"...you mean that?"

Mimi smiled as tears gathered in her eyes. She knew he would finally come around, but she wish it hadn't taken them six months of bickering to do so. Of course, she had cried nonstop for half that time and Yamato barely held his job he was so hungover, but that didn't count. "Yes... More than anything in the world, yes."

* * *

><p>"Women don't say things like that," Yamato snorted. "They just scream, 'I do!' and tackle you to the ground for some stupid expensive rock."<p>

"Well, looks beautiful to me. Guess all that overtime is paying off," Yutaka chuckled.

"Oh, fuck."

"What?" asked Akira, looking up from the laptop in front of him.

"Damn thing crashed again..." sighed Takashi.

Yamato sighed, "Let's build _another_ one and use my suggestion this time, okay?"

"Sometimes I regret this job," Takashi muttered, shoving past Yamato and going over to the door to the wind tunnel, looking at the wreckage of the piece of the aircraft they had been working on.

"Don't be difficult," Yamato remarked, surveying through the viewing window.

"Easy for you to say," Takashi barked from the other side, "You've actually got a mission in a few days."

"But how is the wife taking it?" Akira wondered, a bundle of wires and his laptop cradled beneath his arm.

Yamato didn't dignify a response, much to his friends' annoyance, but they would forgive him for being moody. They had all remained friends this long only because they were always there for one another, the good and the bad. No one had questioned about the how or why with Russel because they knew it would upset Yamato. In turn, when Takashi was scammed out of part of his tuition one year, they all did a brief EP for their old fans to fund the cost. Their friendship was the reason they were all technicians with JAXA because they all agreed to do something with their lives together. Sure, Yamato had always been their leader, persuing the idea of space, but the others would have had the balls to tell him it was an idiotic idea if it had been. Yamato had recovered a childhood love of science for the retreat of music and women because Takeru's fairy tale ending of his novel, A Million Points of Light.

"I miss the days when we just tinkered in the garage. I'm getting too old for this," Akira sighed, shifting his weight as Takashi dragged the destruction from the tunnel.

"The music or blowing shit up?" Yamato joked, recalling their home made rockets. His grandmother hadn't been to pleased when part of her large, ornate garden caught on fire.

"Both!"

"At least we get paid for doing stupid shit now," Yutaka chuckled, opening the door so they could head back into the next room to rebuild. Takashi cursed most of the way through, especially when part of the frame got caught on the door. Yamato helped him through and they filed in, looking at the remains of other projects they had due and the setback this was causing.

"Why were you absent yesterday?" Akira asked suddenly.

"You make it sound like I skipped class," Yamato said, flopping in a chair. "But no, I was just-"

"Hungover?"

"Yes, and?!" the blonde said, raising a fist to Takashi. "Mimi made me stay home and we had the maintenance come by."

"You're an engineer and you called a plumber?"

"_No_, we're living in an apartment still and I can't go fumbling around inside the thermostat," Yamato explained. "He couldn't find anything wrong, though. If I have to listen to Mimi complain one more damn time about the cold-"

"He didn't fix it?" Akira asked.

"No, but he had enough stories to fill Noah's ark," Yamato muttered. "Including all these stupid ones about how our apartment is haunted, has gone through six tenants, the whole paranormal bullshit."

"Well, _have_ you?"

"Have I...? What?"

"Seen any ghosts?" Akira shivered, hiding behind the screen of his laptop.

"No..."

"That didn't sound too confident, Ishida," Takashi said, leaning over Yamato's shoulder. "Come on, what did you see?"

"N-nothing. Can we get back to work? They aren't paying us undiscolosed figures of money for no damn reason."

"Wait," Akira insisted, "I wanna know about the ghost."

Yamato knew he wasn't going to win any battles with these guys and needed to pass the last three hours of his shift anway as he sat down, trying to analyze where the craft's weakness had been to alter their plans. "Well, this is what he said:

* * *

><p>Reluctantly, Yamato had stayed home. He hadn't a day off in forever... since Russel's passing really. He decided to do something he had been neglecting for the past months and went into the bedroom and to Mimi's side of the bed. Underneath was the box of Russel's things and Yamato pulled it out and dragged it into the living room. At the couch, he began going through them.<p>

His breath was shaky and hung in his throat as he pulled out the first thing in the box: a picture of the three of them that had been sitting next to the boy's bed. Yamato looked around, trying to hold back tears as he wondered what Russel would have thought about the place. He always had a smile, or at least an evil grin on his face, in any picture. He had strawberry blonde hair that spiked in the back and bangs that framed his face much like his mother's. He had his mother's eyes, but Yamato's recessive blue lenses. The pink hoodie lay crammed into the box- the kid never went anywhere without it. Yamato could still see specs of the blood from the kid's first fight- defending a little nerd in his class, no less. Yamato had been proud of him and he laughed as he remembered Mimi scolding them, then giving a wink. Russel didn't get all of his deviousness from his father. Ah, 'hadn't', Yamato corrected.

Then, the phone rang. Yamato debated answering and usually he let the machine get these things but they hadn't hooked it up yet. He reached across the couch and plucked the phone from the reciever, "Hello? Ishida residence."

Yamato waited for an answer, but nothing. He stared at the phone a moment, following the cord, just to make sure it was still connected. Usually there would be a hiss in the line, but not even that crackle reached his ears. Just completely _dead_ silence. He pressed the off button with his thumb quickly and tossed the phone across the couch.

"Why am I freaking out?" he whispered to himself, setting down the box. _Is it because of the other night? What you __**know**__ you heard. A child. A young boy that might've been Russel, wanting his Dad to play with him. Begging you to give him the time you took from him._

Yamato screamed and stood from the couch. He hurried to the kitchen for some water and grabbed a glass from the cabinet. He set it down as he turned on the tap, waiting for the bad water to filter through the old pipes.

_Clank._

"Damn," the blonde breathed, jumping out of his skin. The glass lay shattered on the floor. "Fucking..." He started to mutter as he went to the pantry and grabbed the dust pan. _You just set the glass down too close to the edge, Yamato. Hauntings aren't real._

Then, a knock at the door. "Maintence."

"Ah, one moment!" Yamato called, sweeping up the glass quickly and then heading to the door. He opened the door and watched as his nose was face to face with the maintance man's pointer finger.

"Bang. You're dead." The blonde glared at him. "You're supposed to look through the peephole first."

"Thank you for your priceless advice," Yamato snorted, knowing this doofus could not possibly know the reference, then let the man inside. He had to be in his mid to late twenties with short, choppy, cinammon colored hair. He was wearing some vintage aviation goggles and a burgundy colored uniform with the nametag 'Motimiya'.

"So, uh, something about the A/C, right?" he asked.

"Actually, it's the pipes-" the blonde started, but Motimiya headed towards their air conditioner anyway. Yamato had just noticed the toolbag in the other's hand as he wandered over to the unit to take a look. The blonde slumped on the couch and folded his arms. He appreciated that this guy was here, but next time Yamato figured he would fight Mimi and just fix it himself. The entire thing was a huge invasion of privacy. _He better find something wrong with this thing-_

"Hmm, is a bit chilly in here," Motimiya noted, looking through wires and metal. "But everything's fine. This is bollocks."

Yamato barely knew the expression, but figured it was akin to 'bullshit'. "So, what's up then? Insulation?"

"M-Maybe, but this place was up to code a few years back and I've been here since. No one else is complaining of feeling cold. There's only one explanation!"

Yamato frowned, "They like living in a freezer?"

"Nope!" Motimiya exclaimed, then walked over to Yamato, uncomfortably close by leaning into the blonde's ear, "Have you been experiencing anything... _abnormal_?"

Yamato shifted his weight to ease away, "Yeah. You."

The boy chuckled, his hair bouncing like a grassy field in a high wind, "Man, you're a grumpy gills, huh? No, I mean... you know... paranormal?"

"Oh, not you too," Yamato grumbled, giving up, throwing his head into his hands. This gesture made Motimiya pull back and stand straight with his hands on his hips. "You sound like my little brother."

"Smart kiddo. Well, Mr. Daisuke here knows some things about this here apartment," the maintance man continued, "This isn't the first time I've been up here for a busted A/C, messed up pipes, or what have you."

"...so? We got a lousy deal, then," Yamato replied.

"Well, there used to be a family living here, but they moved out," Daisuke explained. "They kept hearing strange noises, getting chills, seeing little orbs- the whole shabang. Finally, they couldn't take it anymore."

"Let me guess, there's a lot of these people, couples, families, that moved in and out of this place," Yamato muttered.

"Long before you arrived, my amigo."

"...then, it couldn't be Russel...?"

"Whatsa Russel?" Daisuke asked, then looked down at the box near the edge of the couch. He had nearly tripped on it while looking around aimlessly for ghost clues. "Oh... adorable kid. Still, what kid keeps all his stuff in one b- Oh. Sorry."

Yamato waved him off. "He died in an accident."

"Oh, how?"

"An _accident_."

"Like a car?"

"No. Just drop it."

Daisuke sighed, "Anyway, I'll take a look around and see if anything else is causing the problem, but between you and me, I think it's the ghost."

"There's no such thing," Yamato muttered.

"Oh, and how would you know?" Daisuke retorted. "Have you been to the other side and seen for yourself?"

"If you wanna call it that," Yamato snapped, turning his head to reveal a healing scar on the back-right of his temple.

"Losing a kid IS a difficult thing. I lost my wife myself," Daisuke replied meekly.

"I didn't do it because of that," the blonde said suddenly, surprising himself. He was talking to this stranger way too much.

Daisuke wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed sometimes, but he could add basic numbers. "Look, I don't know why you wanted to abandon the good life you got here, but God let you live for a reason, buddy."

Yamato scowled, "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, something that might help. Since you've seen the other side and all... guess you could say you communicate better than most people would. Maybe you can find out what the Hell is going on around here. I would certainly like to know."

Yamato continued with his grinch face and politely asked Daisuke to leave. Daisuke sighed and gathered his things, trudging out the door, "Tell the misses I'll be back to check in in about a week. Policy, you know."

"I won't be here in a week," Yamato stated flatly, joining the repairman at the door.

"Oh, a vacation then?"

"You could say that, although I wasn't aware Mars was a popular hotspot," the blonde smiled.

"That explains," Daisuke said, making a humming noise and tapping the JAXA jacket on the hook. "Ah, well, some people just can't stop running."

* * *

><p>"He really said <em>that<em>?" Akira snorted, programming some of the adjustments Yamato had figured.

"Like something out of a damn movie, that kid," Yutaka agreed.

"He's a fucking nut," the blonde breathed. "All he wanted to do was get gossip on the new guy in the building, I'm telling you."

"I don't know..." Takashi started. Yamato glanced at him. Of anyone there to be a skeptic, Yamato expected him to be. He was so collected, not particularly spiritual, and a rationalist. "Yamato, he has a point. You said you heard a kid, right? Mimi didn't mention anything like that, right?"

"...I'm not sure," Yamato replied. _Had Mimi mentioned something like that? She had heard a noise or something, I believe._

"I would move," Akira told everyone hastily. He shuddered as he handed his friend the schematics he had printed.

"We_ just_ moved. Mimi can't go through all that again right now," Yamato argued. Yutaka and Takashi gathered materials for the next part and Yamato joined them to start rebuilding.

"He's been through enough," Takashi said firmly. "As much as I feel that something is there with you, _Russel_ or not, I think you need to take his advice."

"Who's, Akira's?" the blonde laughed.

"No, this Motimiya guy."

"What are you saying to me?"

"Stop getting defensive."

As they argued, Akira buried himself in his laptop in a way that reminded Yamato very much of Koushiro and Yutaka just laughed.

"What are you implying?" he demanded to know. Yamato hated people that just wouldn't come out and say things. Ironic, because he was very much the hypocrite in that department.

"Let's face it, we all know that if you hadn't been acting like a fool Russel would be alive right now!" Takashi barked.

If Yamato had been anywhere but work he would have pounded Takashi's face into the cement floor by now, but instead Yamato tore a hole through the remains of their previous project and stormed off for a smoke break.

"Good job," Yutaka snorted to Takashi. "You made him feel so much better."


End file.
